Control
by Reina Komatsu
Summary: Normally the Doctor never cares about how he looks, but when his companions start to comment about his weight he can't stop himself to wonder if he really is out of control. Warnings: eating disorder
1. Chapter 1

I want to thank Lastsyns for the time she took to Beta this story.

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The Doctor watched his naked body in the mirror with a disgusted look. He hated it, every inch of this body. This regeneration of him was nothing like his old self. His old body was perfect. His old self wouldn't stand in front of his TARDIS mirror, grabbing the layers of skin. He could feel it, the fat. It was disgusting to him. There was a reason why he chose to not change his appearance when he got shot by a Dalek in front of Rose and Donna. It was all vanity, but no one knew.

He needed to stop adding sugar to his tea and cut down on fish custard. There wasn't much this body enjoyed eating. Almost everything he liked had a high level of sugar or was unhealthy in other ways. He enjoyed sugar, but the price wasn't worth it. Even if he spent most of the day running from an alien who wanted to kill him, it still didn't help him to burn the calories nearly as much as he needed.

He should have taken Amy's advice, that she had given him last time they met. He had went to pick them up but Rory was out of town for the weekend and Amy felt bad about leaving her husband behind. So instead they decided to just drink some tea and eat some cake in a café in the small town. She had warned him about what would happen to him if he ate the cake with whipped cream and the Jammie Dodgers. He had taken it as friendly teasing in the beginning but he was now starting to see what she had been warning him about. Even if he were a Time Lord sugar was still bad for him. The difference between humans and Time Lords in the matter was that Time Lords had more control over their cravings, which this body of him had failed miserably in. But he could do it, for Jack.

Even if Jack told him it didn't matter how he looked, he still knew Jack preferred his old body. He didn't blame Jack, he himself preferred his old body. He could eat everything he wanted without having to worry about gaining weight. This body was different, he needed to be cautious of what he was eating. Which wouldn't be a problem if it wasn't for his irresponsible choice of foods.

It was Jack that made him really think about his weight. Jack had prepared a perfect date in his apartment where the Doctor was living from time to time. Jack had picked him up in his strong arms to carry him to the bedroom when Jack said something that had changed his life. The words echoed in his head in an endless replay. "Wow Doc, someone has gained weight since your last body. I think soon it will be you who will need to carry me"

He hadn't really enjoyed Jack's loving during the night. He was thinking about how horrible he must look for everybody to comment on his weight. He was used to everybody telling him how slim he was, not how fat he was. It was really getting to him. Jack really thought he was too heavy, that would explain why he had given him low-fat milk and no sugar to his tea this morning. He had even been given a banana which must be a hint for him to cut back on his Jammie Dodgers.

His pants had been ripped apart the last morning when he had sat down with Jack to keep him company during breakfast. Jack had of course been quick to tell him how his unhealthy choice of food started to show. He doubted it was a joke, even if the other man was laughing. He was of course laughing at him. He knew he couldn't keep Jack if he didn't do something about the matter.

He was trying to see if he could fit in his old body's pinstriped suit. He usually never put on his old clothes, but now he needed to see just how out of control he was. The answer made him sick, he was very out of control.

He would just have used Jack's gun to regenerate, if this wasn't his last body. He didn't want to leave Jack, but he still wanted to give Jack more than he could give him. He never told him that this was his last form. He didn't dare to give him the bad news. Jack was happy to have found someone he could live a long happy life with. It would be long, but not as joyful as Jack imagine. He didn't want to take away Jack's happiness, but he needed to do it sooner or later.

The Doctor's stomach was burning because of his hunger but he couldn't give up now. He had already cleared three days with just drinking plain tea once a day and water to not dehydrate. He wasn't weak, just hungry and in a bad mood when someone talked to him. It was hard for him to not go to Jack's kitchen to search for something to eat in the fridge when he left his TARDIS that was parked inside Jack's living room. He tried to stop thinking about how great a raspberry and rhubarb pie would taste as he walked in to Jack's bed room. He undressed himself and laid himself next to the human's strong body. He always felt safe in his arms. He lay just thinking for a while when he finally decided to ask Jack what he really thought.

"Jack, are you asleep" he asked as he turned to Jack to see if he heard him.

"Almost, can't sleep?" Jack's beautiful eyes were closed. He wanted to see them but he didn't want to disturb the other man more than necessary. He would soon go to work during the day.

"Do you think I'm too heavy?" It was quiet for a while until he heard Jack move and felt his arms around his disgusting body. He knew the human were half asleep but was still trying to comfort him.

"Yes." It didn't matter if Jack knew what he was saying. He knew Jack was right.


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor was laying next to Jack. He had Jack's arms around him as usual and he was hugging himself. He felt pathetic because of his weakness. He felt empty. His body was shivering from the thought of food. He hadn't eaten any real food in ages. He had drank some tea in the evening, the first cup he had in three days. He was on a strict diet, no sugar, almost nothing to eat and tea two times a week. He was starving himself, but he was a Time Lord. He didn't need to eat as much as humans did in order to function. He couldn't stop thinking about the sweet scent of his favorite dish. He could taste the custard mingling together with the salty fish creating a wonderful and pleasurable sensation. He could hear the crispy coating crunch in his mouth as he imagined himself eating the fish. He would have some Jammie Dodgers and tea with a lot of sugar and cream instead of milk to top it off.

He was panting as he twisted himself in the sweaty covers. Jack had tried to keep him in place in his sleep for a while but it seemed like the sleeping human had given up. He was too heavy of a sleeper to even notice that the Doctor struggled against him.

The Doctor tried to calm down, but now when he had started to think about food, he couldn't stop. The images wouldn't leave his mind. He was even thinking about how great caramelized apple would taste, even if he hated apples. He was gripping the covers with a tight grip as he fought the urge to run to the kitchen and shove everything edible down his throat. He was weak, the hunger was to much for him. He was a disgrace to the Time Lords. He couldn't even make it one month without getting desperate over food. And he had even drank some tea not to long ago. His mind was too weak, too addicted to the wonderful food that was waiting for him in the refrigerator.

He looked at Jack with a look filled of guilt. Jack was perfect. He could eat everything, no one ever commented on how he looked. Not what he had heard anyway. Why couldn't he be perfect for Jack, that was all he wanted right now. He knew Jack was embarrassed of this regeneration's body. He hadn't nagged about how he should visit Torchwood as his guest in sometime, as he used to do with his old body. All the offers of traveling had been turned down. Jack didn't want to be seen with this body. He felt hurt, but he never told Jack. He was always hiding behind his bow tie.

He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't fight it as he ran to the kitchen and ripped the door to the refrigerator open. The cool air hit him, but he was not interested in keeping himself cool. He grabbed the first thing he could get his hand on, which was pork. Raw. He didn't care about it now, it would be a problem later. He ripped the package open and slit the meat from the chop with his teeth. The raw meat tasted nothing like it did when it was prepared, but it didn't matter. He wasn't here to eat a gourmet dinner, he was here to stuff himself until he got sick. The pork didn't help to satisfy him at all. He wanted more. He was stuffing his mouth full of sausage, ham, butter, jam, peanut butter, yogurt, whipped cream, cheese and other random groceries they had in the refrigerator when he understood that he wanted something sweet.

He was fumbling in the cabinet after some Jamie Dodgers. He ate everything he got his hands on until he found the damn biscuits. He took three in his mouth at the same time but was close to spitting it out when he understood that he needed something sweeter, something a lot sweeter. He was searching for some candy as he was emptying the package full of cookies. He didn't find candy, but he found frosting. They should have been using the frosting the next day to decorate gingerbread. Jack had said something about Christmas. He didn't care at the moment, all he wanted was to taste the sweet frosting in his mouth.

He was almost sucking out the white icing from the tube. The sugar was almost melting in his mouth as he ate it. He didn't understand how he could refuse something so wonderful. It was almost like the first time he had eaten fish custard. Even if he was longing for the food, he didn't have the patients to cook the dish right now. He could eat it later when he had calmed himself down. He thought that the frosting would help his cravings but it was only making it worse. He was eating everything they had, even if he thought almost all of it tasted horrible. He couldn't stop eating, he had lost all control over his body.

He was laying on the floor, with a half-eaten lightly-smoked bologna sausage in his hand. He was chewing it slowly as he forced some more in his mouth. Tears were falling down his face. He was surrounded by empty bottles and boxes. The refrigerator and the cabinets were almost empty. He had even a bottle of Jack's alcohol beside him. He felt sick and dirty. He wanted to throw everything up again, but he was still eating. He was beyond stuffed. Everything felt horrible, he was a disappointment. All his hard work was in vain.

He let out a cry of frustration as he slowly realized what he had done. He was sobbing to himself when he understood that he was no longer alone in the room. Jack was watching him with a tired look. He usually never woke up in the night if he did not need the bathroom. He was slowly approaching the broken Time Lord as if he was a scared animal. Jack was gently stroking his cheek as he tried to calm the Time Lord down. He had no idea what had happened, he guessed that the Doctor had a bad dream and searched for comfort in food instead of him. He didn't judge the Time Lord at all. He was just a bit sad that his lover chose food over him. He sighed when he saw the mess.

"Look at the mess you made. But I can't be mad at you when you look so cute. We can clean up tomorrow," Jack said as he lifted up the Doctor who was trying to stop crying, in his arms, when he saw the open package of pork chop. He looked down at the Doctor who looked ashamed.

"Should I be worried and call Martha?" He asked but the Doctor shook his head slowly. He smiled at his lover as he carried him back to the bed.

"Okay, but I don't want to wake up to a sick you or a corpse tomorrow." He said receiving a weak nod from his partner. The Doctor was confused. He didn't understand why Jack wasn't pointing out his failure. He was weaker than humans, but Jack still said nothing. It was almost like he pitied him.


	3. Chapter 3

"Doctor, you're out of control," Jack said to the weak figure that he laid down in the queen sized bed. The Doctor ignored Jack and turned his back to his lover and closed his eyes tightly, hoping to get some sleep. He felt worthless, he didn't deserve Jack's concern. He couldn't look the man in his eyes after he had failed to keep himself in check. The words hurt him, he knew Jack were right, he was out of control.

He didn't know how he got to the bed. His memories of the days were a bit of a blur. Jack had finally agreed to make one trip with the Doctor but then he needed to be back. His team needed him. The Doctor was glad that Jack finally wanted to travel with him again, even if it was only one trip, usually it lead to more adventures until the Doctor needed to make a pit stop in Cardiff. He remembered running with Jack as usual, this time from some Cybermen. It didn't go as well as it usually did. Jack was ahead of him and it was hard to keep the same pace as him. It was hard to move every limb in his body. He felt groggy. He was tired and weak. Everything was spinning in his head as Jack slowly disappeared from his blurred vision.

He felt the metal hand on his shoulder. The Cyberman had caught up to him. He knew he was screaming when he received several shocks through his body. Then, everything stopped. He thought he was dead for a moment until he heard Jack's soft, but worried voice. He knew Jack had died when he saved him and it made his guilty feelings even worse. Jack had carried him back to the TARDIS. He didn't have enough energy to walk. They said nothing on the way back.

The Doctor was woken up by the pleasant smell of Chinese food. His stomach was growling, but he felt disgusted. He didn't want to eat, he couldn't destroy everything he worked so hard for again. Jack placed a box of noodles in front of him.

"I'm not hungry," he told Jack as he turned away his face to not give in to the temptation. Jack looked irritated, he was prepared for a scolding but it never came. Jack bit his lip and tried again.

"You must be starving, the last thing I saw you eat was a carrot some days ago. I know you hate vegetables so I figured your food stock was gone." He gave Jack an annoyed look as he made a childish face. This incarnation of him always acted like a child and he knew that Jack couldn't help himself from liking it.

"I'm not hungry, and I have enough food thank you," he said. He sat up to give the box of noodles back when a sudden wave of dizziness struck him. Jack was quick to grab him and gently laid him back in the bed. They stared at each other for a while until he opened the box to see what Jack had brought him. He couldn't help but smile when he saw some noodles with pork and egg. Just that, Jack knew he hated vegetables. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He still didn't want to eat it.

"Doctor, I don't know why you're not eating, and I'm sorry if I haven't given you enough attention, but this needs to stop. You could have died today. I know you can't starve yourself to death, but what if you faint again? What if I'm not there to save you next time?" The Doctor grabbed Jack's hand. He was looking at Jack with a pleading look.

"I'm fine, really." Anyone who knew the Doctor knew that he was lying, Jack couldn't take the lying anymore. He didn't want his lover to feel bad. He knew it was hard to make the Time Lord to open himself up to someone, but he couldn't take not being able to understand the Time Lord anymore.

"No you're not. Is there something wrong?" he asked, hoping that the Time Lord would share his feeling with him. The other man didn't answer. He just looked down at his knees, hoping that Jack would leave the subject. "Doctor, please talk to me. I care about you but if you don't tell me what's wrong, then I'm going to leave. I'm serious. I can't help you if you're not talking."

The Doctor said nothing for a long time. He was processing what was happening. He didn't want Jack to leave him. He wanted Jack to be happy. He wanted to be perfect for Jack. He grabbed the covers and took a deep breath.

"I'm not enough for you. I was perfect for you before I regenerated. I know you like my old body better. Don't deny it, it's written on your face. I'm disgusting" Jack had never heard the Doctor sounding so… human. It was almost like he was listing to an angsty teenage kid with issues about fitting in, not a proud Time Lord. He gave the Doctor a hug. He refused to let go of the Doctor.

"How many times do I need to say it before it getting through your thick Time Lord skull? I, Jack Harkness, do not care how you look. I don't care if you change gender in your next body. I love you either way, so please stop this. You're hurting me by hurting yourself." He felt that the speech was a bit cliché and a bit cheesy, but he liked cheesy. "And between the old you and this body, I like your new body better. It's amazing."

The Doctor felt happier and couldn't help but to smile. He didn't care if Jack just said it to make him feel better, it worked.

"Will you eat that, or am I going to get the pleasure of tricking you in to eating via kissing?" he said and winked at the Doctor. He knew it wasn't this easy to get someone to understand that they look perfect exactly how they were, but he couldn't lose him for something that stupid. He couldn't believe how human the Doctor could be sometimes, but he was determined to get him back to the cheerful carefree time traveling lunatic that he loved.

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**I know it was a short story but when I was planning it I decided that I wanted to make a three parted story focusing more about emotion and The Doctors feelings than events. I hope you enjoyed the story and thank you for reading. **


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